


Liquidation

by Foophile



Category: Prison Break
Genre: Community: rounds_of_kink, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, PWP, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-04
Updated: 2008-12-04
Packaged: 2017-11-10 14:50:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/467506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foophile/pseuds/Foophile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Slick slurping, thick and hollow like marshmallow clouds, keep Michael on the edge of his second orgasm for so long that he wonders if he’s still breathing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Liquidation

Michael’s arms stretch out so far on his wool carpet that he can feel the tendons straining and the muscle burning. He digs his fingers into the woven braids, holds on while his body rocks and dips. His elbows are abraded and soreness sears anew with every unforgiving thrust of Lincoln’s cock in his ass.

His brother’s muttering filth in his ear, their bellies stuck together with precome and lube and sweat, their mouths connected and sucking desperately between jarring rocks.

“So tight on my cock it’s like I’ve never here before. Like the first time, Mikey. You remember the first time?” Lincoln’s teeth scrape over his ear and down his jaw. Michael moans his response.

Lincoln chokes on his orgasm, bites Michael’s chin likes he’s a ripe fruit while he pumps his release deep. Michael comes with a sharp cry and his brother’s adept hand around his cock.

Michael’s lost and found all at once. Feeling like a virgin whore, so eager for the familiar bliss his brother gives him and yet still afraid of losing touch, of forgetting what they’ll forever be to each other.

Brothers, just brothers, blood brothers. Bonded in every way that counts and many ways that shouldn’t.

-

Slick slurping, thick and hollow like marshmallow clouds, keep Michael on the edge of his second orgasm for so long that he wonders if he’s still breathing. He can hear his heartbeat, an endless, countless rhythm hammering at the insides of his chest but the sound of his breath is drowned in the slurp-lick of Lincoln’s tongue in his ass, his own groans and exclamations that would be beyond embarrassing if he could just stop making them.

Hands pull his ass further apart and his back dips to compensate, to keep Lincoln’s tongue there and flicking with all of its tensile strength. He’s jacking his cock as if he’ll lose it tomorrow and, damn it, if he does this will be the best orgasm of his life.

There’s moist perfection driving him into nirvana and then a steady unmistakable poke of a finger stretching him wider, another joining in to add to the throbbing that connects his ass to his heart and back again.

Michael knows he’s breathing when he stops and it feels like time’s gone still with it.

Lincoln’s tongue is in his ass and his sweat is on his skin and his smell is in the pillow that Michael screams into when his vision goes gray then white.

He breathes anew with soft lips on his back, kissing, kissing, kissing…

-

They’re so wet, slick with come and saliva everywhere. Michael should feel disgusting but all he feels is the swollen ache in his ass, where Lincoln is, where he has been for a while now. He’s dripping with them, filled up with everything that makes them who they are together.

Lincoln rubs his inflamed lips against Michael’s own. Lips numb from kissing, they try to do it anyway, again and again, feeling only the pressure. Michael can taste Lincoln in his mouth and his raw throat shudders out another groan at the thought of Lincoln tasting himself.

His brother’s arms are heavy weights on his back, holding Michael down so that he can thrust up at his leisure. He watches Michael slowly ride his cock with an intensity that prickles the younger man’s stomach and makes him feel like they’re the only two people in the world.

A creeping tide wave, Michael’s orgasm is pulled out of him like a sword, agonizing but ultimately relieving. When he’s done, head falling forward to rest on Lincoln’s shoulder, he lets his brother use him up, listens to the minute differences in Lincoln’s moans from his fourth orgasm as opposed to his first or even second.

Lincoln’s fingers slide down his back like he’s finger painting on Michael’s skin, tips twitching bruises that won’t last nearly as long as Michael would wish.

-

Mouth filled with his brother’s cock, Michael keeps his eyes closed and tries to taste where Lincoln ends and he begins. They’re all mixed up in each other, sex-drunk and stinking, languid to the point of nearly falling down. His neck twinges from trying to keep the weight of his head bobbing and Michael relaxes, lets opens his throat wide, the way his brother taught him, swallows Lincoln all the way down and stops.

Strong thighs shudder under his hands and Michael drinks down the little Lincoln gives him.

“Too much,” his brother mumbles, trying to lift Michael’s head after thirty seconds, a minute passes, and he still has him plugging his throat.

Michael’s resists, eyes and mouth and soul filled with Lincoln, stroking the raw skin of his cock until his body tenses and he chokes, coming dry into his wet fist.

Lincoln’s still saying, “Too much,” when Michael lets him fall out of his mouth.

He’s panting for breath; legs numb underneath him and voice a sore mess when he responds, “Never.”

Pressed together, Michael can hear their hearts beating in syncopated rhythm, he can smell their sweat everywhere like they’ve painted the walls in their glue, and he can taste Lincoln in his throat, on his teeth.

Lincoln tastes like Michael. Beginning and end.

-

The sun’s coming up and neither of them has moved to shower off the night. Michael’s draped over his brother, face buried in his neck and eyes wide open, watching the new dawn hue Lincoln’s chest with trepidation. He doesn’t have to see his brother’s eyes to know that he’s still awake.

His words drop between then like leaden balloons. “If you’re convicted, if you have to go away, I- I’ll visit every week, every day. However much you want me to.”

Lincoln opens his mouth against Michael’s clammy skin and presses one last whispered kiss, “Don’t.”

 

END


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